


A Little Touch Of Heavenly Light

by JustJules



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Enjolras' father is a dick, Ghost Grantaire, M/M, Mention Of Suicide Attempt, Trans Enjolras, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJules/pseuds/JustJules
Summary: Enjolras had never believed in ghosts. Combeferre was the one who loved horror movies and scary ghost stories, but the blond preferred not to think about things that, in his opinion, didn't exist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man... I wanted to post it yesterday but ahh...   
> It's unbetad. Title from Florence and the Machine's song - Breath Of Life.

_''Sick, strange, that's not how I raised you.'' Words echoed in Enjolras' head. He was trembling, hiding behind his wooden bed. He could hear his family's whispers and he still could feel how warm his cheek was. His father had never hit him before. He knew that it was because his confession had shocked him. But it didn't matter now. He didn't have to forgive him now. He looked at the empty orange bottle in his hand. Soon everything would be over. He knew that his mother would miss him. That Combeferre and Jehan would blame themselves. But it was too late. He closed his eyes and let the back of his head hit the wall._

Enjolras woke up with a gasp, tears rolling down his face. He was in a car. He was alive. The blond wiped his face with a blanket – he didn't need his mother to see him crying. He put his hand on the armrest and pressed his face to the cold window. He just wanted the nightmares to finally end. It had been two months since it all happened and every day he had to see everything again and again. But did he regret telling his parents? Enjolras closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No, he didn't. If he hadn't told them and his father had discovered the truth by himself, his life would have been a nightmare. And Enjolras knew that not sleeping at nights was much better than his father's fury.

''We'll finally be at grandma's house soon.'' His mother's soft and quiet voice brought him back to the reality. ''Well… now it's also our house.'' She smiled at him and put her hand on his knee.

''Yeah… I hope I won't gain weight thanks to grandma's cooking.'' He smiled sadly and tucked a golden curl behind his ear.

''Antoine,'' Enjolras' heart skipped a beat when he heard her say _his name._ ''don't worry. Your new school is in Paris. One of the best in the city, honey. You'll meet new friends! And if you want Théodore and Jehan can visit us soon.''

The blond hummed in a lieu of answer. He was scared. Scared of being alone again, of people misgendering him. Enjolras grabbed a bottle of water from his backpack and took a sip, ignoring his trembling hands. He had to pretend that everything was normal, that he didn't have any problems with his health. Nightmares, insomnia, panic attacks. They were slowly destroying him, but he knew that if he told his mother about them, she would sent him back to the hospital. And he couldn't do this to her. She had already left her job, her friends, her home town, _her husband_ for him. He was going to make everything perfect for her.

 

***

 

''And we're here!'' Madame Enjolras shouted as she jumped out of her car. Her brown hair was dishevelled and her orange dress crumpled. She was clearly tired and she had bags under her eyes.

But she was smiling. And her smile grew even bigger when she saw her mother.

''Oh, Eulalie!'' the older woman hugged her and Enjolras could see that there were tears in her eyes.

''And Antoine! My boy!''

Enjolras smiled slightly and watched her take her bag from the trunk and smile at him. ''Come on, sleepyhead, don't make me carry all those things alone.''

The blond got up slowly and stretched his arms.

He looked at the house. It wasn't big, with roof made of mismatched tiles, small garden and flower pots on windowsills. Everything was so calm. There were no cars, no kids. He even couldn't hear any birds. The place looked like it had been abandoned years ago. Enjolras took boxes from the car and marched to the door of the house. He looked at the building once again. It was his life now. He grabbed the door knob. But before he opened the door, he looked up. Was it a shadow…? He was sure that he had seen something on the second floor and he knew that his grandma was alone at home. He shook his head – it probably was just a cat or a curtain. He entered the house and once again he felt like an eleven-year-old. The same green wallpaper in the small kitchen and the same red couch in the living room. Enjolras hadn't spent a long time in this house. His father had always preferred spending holidays abroad and whenever they'd gone to Paris, they stayed at hotels. But he knew this house. He knew it's smell, the way the door upstairs creaked. It was like a distant memory. He put a box with various pots and tableware (his mother had packed them shouting that she wouldn't have let her soon-to-be ex-husband keep them) on the kitchen island and looked around – there were photos on the wall. Of him, his mother, aunt and his cousins. Enjolras chuckled. He wondered how his precious cousins would react if they knew, if he asked them to call him Antoine.

''Take your stuff and I'll show you your room.'' Suddenly he heard his grandmother's voice. The blond turned around and smiled. He walked back to the car and found the last boxes. They didn't pack many things, only their clothes and most important items. Enjolras grabbed the cardboard box with 'Antoine's room' written on it. It was heavy since he had put his laptop, all his books and CDs in it. Balancing the box on his hip, he closed the trunk. He would return for the rest later. He marched through the small hall and stopped in front of the stairs.

''This way, honey.''

Enjolras followed her, carton in his hands. He took a deep breath. _It was heavy._ Holding the box with his hip, after many long seconds he finally managed to climb up the stairs.

''Do you need help with it?''

''No, mamie. I can do this.'' He said with a gasp. He was so weak, his whole family could see this! He clenched his fists. But he wasn't going to give up. The blond picked up the box once again and crossed the small room. His grandmother was standing in front of the small white door. She smiled at him. ''I hope you'll like it.''

''I do. It's really nice. Did my mum live in it?''

His grandmother smiled. ''No. Your grandfather kept his easels and paints here. He loved art. When he died, I moved them to the basement. But don't worry! Your grandpa's ghost won't haunt you. Well… at least not his…''

'' Mamie?'' 

''Sometime ago, I noticed that someone'd been drinking my wines. Whenever I open a bottle and leave it, it's empty when I want to use it. It's impossible to make a stew! And sometimes someone closes the door to my room. But don't be afraid! This ghost is really nice!''

''Sure…'' 

And Enjolras indeed noticed that there was something wrong with the house. Few days after they moved in, he discovered that his pencil case was missing and he was sure he had packed it with him. He was even more surprised when he found it the next day, it was just simply lying on his desk with a small realistic drawing of the house next to it. Enjolras studied the picture carefully – it was beautiful. He pinned it to the noticeboard with a smile and decided not to tell his mum and grandmother about it.

Enjolras had never believed in ghosts. Combeferre was the one who loved horror movies and scary ghost stories, but the blond preferred not to think about things that, in his opinion, didn't exist.

Since he had moved in, everything changed. Soon Enjolras noticed that someone was constantly changing the music he was listening to. He also felt that someone was watching him whenever he entered the house, but when he turned around, he was alone. Maybe his grandma wasn't wrong? Maybe there really was a ghost? Two weeks later, Enjolras found himself talking to Combeferre in the café. He clutched a cup of coffee in his hand and sat on the sofa in a corner, his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.

''And how is your new school? Any nice boys?''

''School's okay.'' Enjolras muttered and took a sip of his drink.

''And what about your house?''

''Oh… my house! There's something you'll like!''

''Are there moths?'' Combeferre blurted out.

''What? No!'' The boy lowered his voice. ''I think there's a ghost in the house.''

His friend laughed. '''jolras, but you don't believe in ghosts!''

''Oh listen to me! My things disappear and then I find them in completely different places! Someone closes my door at night and draws pictures for me!'' Enjolras wasn't lying. Lately, he had found at least twenty drawings on his desk. Some of them were of his new house, some of various things, like flowers and trees. But some of them were of him. And was he scared? After all there probably was a stranger (dead or alive) in his house, who liked to draw him. But Enjolras wasn't afraid of them. In fact, he wanted to finally meet them.

''Okay… So that's a little bit strange… And exciting! But tell me, my friend, are you sure it's not in your head?''

''Are you telling me that I'm going crazy? I'm not. My grandma also noticed it long before we came here.''

''It's not like I think you're crazy, Enjolras. I'm just surprised. But tell me… have you tried to talk to this ghost?''

''I don't know how.''

Combeferre chuckled. ''Then you came to the right person.''

 

***

 

Two hours later Enjolras was finally back home. He entered the house quickly and after checking if he was alone, he ran upstairs. The blond closed the door to his room and leaned against the wall. He took a deep breath.

''I know you're here…'' He said. Nothing. Not even a sound. Was the ghost ignoring him? Or maybe he really was crazy…

''Please… Just… move the curtains! Give me a sign!''

And again – nothing.

''I just wanted… I just wanted to thank you. For all those drawings. And for closing my door and windows when I forget about them. And for changing my music. I know not everyone likes musicals about French Revolution.'' He laughed quietly.

But he still didn't get any answer.

''I'm Antoine Enjolras. I'm from Marseille, but now I'm going to live here, with my grandma. And if we're going to live together, then maybe… we can be friends!''

He was totally going crazy. The blond threw himself on the bed and sighed. Combeferre was wrong. The ghost didn't want to talk to him or they just didn't exist. He was insane. Enjolras pressed his face to the pillow and closed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened them it was already dark outside. He got up from his bed slowly and hissed in pain. The blond threw his t-shirt and started taking off the binder. He finally drew a breath when he tossed the item across the room. Turning around he put on his blouse. And then he froze. On the mirror in front of him someone wrote 'Nice to meet you' using his red lipstick. And that meant the ghost was real. And probably saw him half naked. _Oh fuck._

''Ymm… can you.. can you talk?''

Enjolras expected the letters to suddenly disappear from the mirror. But instead he saw a young person with dark curly hair, pale, almost greyish skin and short beard.

'' _Oh my God_ '' Enjolras whispered. He wanted to see this ghost, he really did! But he didn't now that the ghost would be so… attractive.

And then the ghost turned around and their eyes met.

''You… you can see me?'' The ghost mumbled and Enjolras only nodded. ''But how…? Are you a psychic?''

''No, I'm not.''

The ghost ran their fingers though their hair. ''I don't understand. You can't see me, you shouldn't…''

''But I do. And you already know my name. What about yours?''

The ghost studied his face and spoke after few seconds. ''R''

''Just R? Okay! What pronouns?''

''He/him.'' The ghost, R, smiled at him slightly. ''You're a strange human being, Antoine. You're talking to someone who is dead.''

Enjolras laughed and looked at him. ''Thanks for the drawings. I love them.''

''No, no, thank you. For not calling exorcist or some medium.'' He sat on the chest of drawers, items on it left untouched.

''Why would I? If not you, I'd die of boredom.'' Enjolras grinned at him. ''But now… tell me something about you!''

R smiled back at him. ''But what do you want to know? I don't really remember anything. I don't even know how I died. I just remember that 'R'. It must have been my nickname or something.''

''Maybe… I can help you?''

''Help me? To discover that I probably drank myself to death? Or just killed myself…''

Enjolras flinched at the mention of the suicide. ''It was just a suggestion…''

Suddenly the door to his room flew open and his mother, still wearing her white coat, walked in. ''What are you doing, honey?''

''Umm… just talking.'' Maybe she could see R too?

His mother looked around and wrinkled her forehead. ''To… yourself?''

''No, no. To Théo. I was talking, before you walked in. He had to go.'' He lifted up his phone.

''Oh okay! I'm gonna make dinner now. Grandma should be back soon, so if you want you can help me.''

''Sure! I'll in a minute!'' He watched his mother smile and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

''So I'm the only one who can see you…'' Enjolras said quietly.

''And I don't know why. But…'' R smiled and hopped off of the chest of drawers and before Enjolras even realised the ghost was standing in front of him. ''it looks like you're also the only one who can hear me. So you can talk to me and everyone will think you are crazy.''

''Idiot.''

 

***

 

Soon May turned into June, then June turned into July and the summer started. Enjolras couldn't hide that he was happy. Finally he was going to the university, he was a real adult now. Moreover his friends were going to visit him. Also his relationship with R had changed a lot. It was like a long distance relationship. _Really_ long distance relationship.

They were flirting. A lot. And spending time together almost every day. When Enjolras was near R he felt like everything was easier. The man was not only handsome and charming. He was smart, knew many things about history and art and somehow always knew how to cheer Enjolras up.

And today Combeferre and Jehan were going to meet him. He had told them about his new friend and hoped that Jehan would be able to communicate with R somehow. The blond knew that they could see things normal people didn't.

And just as he expected when Jehan entered his room, they muttered: ''I feel something here…''.

Enjolras smiled at them. ''You do, because R is here!'' He pointed at the man, only to realise that his friend couldn't see him. What was wrong with him? Why was he the only one…?

Combeferre wrinkled his forehead. ''And you can see him, right?''

''Yes, I can! R, meet my friends – Théodore Combeferre and Jehan Prouvaire.''

The ghost smiled and put his hand on Enjolras' shoulder. After three months of their friendship, he had finally gotten used to R's touch. He felt like he was touching a warm cobweb. But it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

''Tell them that it's nice to meet them even though the communication between us will be rather hard.''

The blond repeated the words and soon he regretted telling Jehan and Ferre about R. Some minutes later he was sitting on his sofa, pressed between R (which was a rather hard thing to do. After al, he was a ghost) and Combeferre who was a little bit too excited. Enjolras could see that R wasn't feeling comfortable when his friends again asked him to move their phones, to lift a box up. And finally it was enough.

''Guys, you should stop. R is not your toy!'' As soon as he finished speaking, R put his hand on his thigh and Enjolras felt himself blushing.

''Sorry…'' Jehan muttered.

They were sitting in silence, none of them knowing what they should say. Combeferre was the one to finally speak: ''I think… I think.. I know why you are the only one who can see R!''

Everyone looked at him surprised.

''Enjolras! It was so simple! You almost died. God, I remember how scared everyone was! Your doctor said that it was a miracle that they managed to save you! And that's why you can see ghosts!''

The blond bit his lower lip. It was ridiculous, but it was the only explanation that made sense to him.

''Ferre is right. There was a film about it! This guy had an accident and he almost died and then he started seeing ghosts and it was awesome! Aaron Tveit was in it!'' Jehan added.

Enjolras sighed. Maybe his friends were right. Maybe his suicide attempt, his depression brought him to R. R who was dead and who would never be in relationship with him…

 

***

 

Summer ended quickly. Leaves started to fall off the trees and soon Enjolras started packing his things again. He didn't want to tell R about it, he couldn't. But he also couldn't pretend that he was going to stay. He'd already found a perfect flat, it was near his university, there were two rooms. Normally he'd be happy, he finally was going to start his own life. But not now when he knew that moving out meant leaving R.

He put his books to the small box and sighed – he had to tell the ghost. Enjolras look at his reflection in the mirror. Was he really ready to leave house? Maybe if he told his mother that he'd like to stay with her, she'd agree?

''When are you leaving?'' R suddenly asked from where he was sitting on his bed.

The blond took a deep breath. ''You know…''

''Yeah, my memory is bad, but I remember how the school works. So… history?''

Enjolras only nodded. He'd always wanted to study history and be a teacher.

''Will you visit me sometimes…?''

And that was enough for the blond. With a tears rolling down his face, he carefully threw his arms around R. ''Of course I will, you stupid ghost.''

Enjolras looked at the man. They were so close, their noses almost touching. He yearned to touch his semitransparent skin, to run his fingers through those long curls. The blond closed his eyes and slowly grabbed R's hands. Everything would be so much easier if he could really touch him. And then he felt something warm pressing to his lips. R was kissing him. And he could feel it.

Enjolras caressed the ghost's hand with his thumb and kissed him back. He smiled when R wrapped his arms around the blond's waist

''That was…'' Enjolras said quietly.

''Strange?''

''Nice.''

 

***

 

''This house is so fucking empty without you…'' R whispered from where he was hugging Enjolras. They were lying on the young student's bed, faint light from the laptop illuminating Enjolras' body. During last two months, they'd barely seen each other. And the blond just wanted to be with the man he loved the most. Because he did. When he'd left his grandmother's house, he finally realised that he couldn't live without R.

''I… I know that it's hard. Of course I know it, R. But you're not helping.'' the boy sat up. ''And I have no idea what I should do. I want to be with you, I really do.''

''You should forget about me, E.''

Enjolras looked at him shocked. ''I won't! R, please, we will find a way! But not now. Now I want to be just with you…''

R caressed his cheek with his hand. ''Fine… But we will talk about this later.''

''Good.'' Enjolras replied with a smile and kissed the man quickly.

The blond wanted to talk with R about it. He wanted to tell the ghost that he cared, that he wanted to be with him. But as soon as the film they were watching ended, he felt that his eyes were closing on their own. He yawned and carefully pressed his face to R's chest.

''Enjolras, don't fall asleep.''

''Yhym…''

''We must talk, E.''

The student only covered his body with a blanket. ''We must sleep.'' He muttered quietly. ''I love you.'' Enjolras added and fell asleep before he was able to think about what he'd just said.

 

When Enjolras woke up eight hours later, the first thing he noticed was that R wasn't near him. He couldn't find the ghost on the sofa (R's favourite part of his room) and in the bathroom. He wasn't in the kitchen nor the living room. The blond checked in every room, every corner of his house. But he didn't find the ghost. Tired and sad, he sat on the chair in the kitchen and slowly ate his breakfast.

_R left him. R didn't love him._

 

But Enjolras didn't give up. He was still looking for the ghost. And when he realised that R wasn't at home, he bought ouija board (drastic times call for drastic measures, right?). But it didn't work. R was gone.

 

***

 

When the 31st of October came, Enjolras was even sadder. He stayed in the bed for few hours, just staring at the ceiling. He and R had so many plans for Halloween. And now he was alone.

When he finally got up from his bed, it was already after 10 am. He couldn't eat, he couldn't think and he couldn't sleep. He couldn't even look at his own laptop, because it reminded him of all those movies he'd seen with the ghost. He just wanted him back. Enjolras even tired to look for any information about R. But it was impossible. He didn't even know his name.

Somewhere around 6 pm, Enjolras decided to go back to sleep. He'd ignored text messages from his mother, who was asking him to visit them and from Combeferre who just wanted to talk. He was too tired to talk to them.

At then he heard knocking on the door. He tried to ignore it by putting a pillow on his head, but when after few minutes it didn't stop, he dragged himself to the door. He opened it quickly and muttered:''What?''

But then he looked up and saw _him_. R was standing in front of him, crutches in his hands and shy smile on his face. Enjolras studied his body, his eyes, his everything. He wasn't so transparent any more. His cheeks were red and the blond could finally see how beautiful his eyes were.

''I think you want me to explain everything to you, right?''

Enjolras only nodded and opened the door wider so that the man could walked in. He guided him to the small living room and pointed at the sofa. He was too shocked to talk. He watched R sit at the sofa carefully. The dark haired man grabbed his hand and looked at him.

''I'm not dead. And I wasn't dead month ago. I was in coma, Enjolras.'' He laughed quietly. ''Just like in this film. I had a car accident. I didn't remember it and I still don't. My sister told me about everything. But I remember you. And I know that I'm here thanks to you. When… when you told me that you love me… Man, you woke me up… Please, let me hug you.''

And Enjolras did. He sat on the sofa and wrapped his arms around R. He finally could touch him, could feel how warm his skin was.

''I love you too.'' Suddenly the man whispered and kissed Enjolras' nose.

The tears started rolling down his cheeks. His R was here, was alive.

''Never leave me again! I was so scared!''

''I won't…'' R replied quietly.''I also think I should introduce myself once again… Using my full name this time. I'm Nicolas Grantaire and it's nice to finally be able to keep you in my arms.''

''Antoine Enjolras and you're still an idiot.'' He said with a smile on his face. _His R was back._

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on [ TUMBLR ](http://desmoulinx.tumblr.com)


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